[a voice that is deep and smooth speaks out over the journals. Like a radio personality, it's calm and level, deep but not droning. It's 8 AM in the morning of the 25th...]

Hello out there, fellow Jones Pirates. Or so I hear we're called. Funny how legends of the long past become reality in an unreal world. Unreal only for the fact that this shouldn't exist, yet it does. Fancy that.

Out to sea, at last. I thought it would be an interesting adventure, and yet here it's nothing but fog and morning night. Or I am sure it's still night when it should be morning. If I have things right it should be around eight Am, am I wrong about that?

Sun, where have you gone. Blood moon, why do you smile like a skull.

Haunting figures at night. I snuffed the fire lights and stayed silent, keeping an ear open for what bumps in the night. Fears of being dusted racing through my overactive mind.

A ship not far in the distance, approached by another. Screams fallowed after. I moved away from it and onward.

[he's silent for a moment, laying on deck of his small sail boat, his journal resting on his chest, a soft sigh, before he continues]

Has anyone else experienced a ship, ghostly in nature, confronting you and their crew? Details would be most interesting.

Alright you kids, be careful. This is DJ C2, leaving you with this: The night's a dark mistress, more so when she takes over the day.

I would part ways with you with a song, but I seem to be short music, so for now, let's just say good night and good sailing.

[The journal picks up a loud meow. And the sound of something being batted around. Mikun is currently next to the journal using the Mistress' now glowing shard as a cat toy. ]

So this is what the bath kid was talking about last year. I didn't think it be so bright.
[The shard had started by giving off en enough light it's hiding place in a locked box under the floor boards to be seen.

Meep was talking about resonance happening with these things. The other guy didn't exactly mention it but the sun didn't rise till the start of November last year.


[If anyone on crew is interested in taking a look it's not like Harlock keeps the door locked though you'll have to get it way from Mi-kun if you want a really close look. For a real nostalgia trip you might notice Barboosa's flag on top of the lock box both it and the jewel shard had been in.]

[Written or Action - Private to Crew]

[ Haytham had wanted to address this as soon as the crew had been rescued from the Naval prison but then there was that business with the Corpse King that needed to be seen to and there just hadn't been the time for proper amends to be made. He would try to find each member of the crew to speak to them in person but if he couldn't there was a journal entry for them as well. ]


The events that occurred during the last two weeks were regrettable. Know that, had I been in the correct state of mind, I would not have attempted to harm nor ransom any of you.

I was unable to say so at the time but I was under the sway of one of this land's unique curses. It caused every cruel and mean-spirited action I took to feel right and proper and for that I am deeply regretful.

If there is anything I might do to make amends I trust you will tell me so we might attempt to put this most unfortunate incident behind us.

[ Public ]

I hear tell some of you went to go meet with the Corpse King. I only pray you will not also meet with your deaths.

All I ask is that whoever meets that man spare him his life... for it is mine to take. -She knows she can't really force anyone to agree with that. He had, after all, insulted the honor of many by this point. But it was still important to her.-


[ Private to the Howling Sabers ]

I have recovered from my ordeal. The horns are gone, and my mood is no longer influenced. I... cannot apologize enough for what I did. I understand if you no longer wish me as the First Mate.

I will be in my quarters should anyone wish to speak with me.

Things seem to be back to normal here.

[The message seemed to be more for his own records than for anything else. He'd given it a few extra days in case anything more came of it, but nothing had.]

I can now see all the crew members clearly, and all the memories are no longer hazy.

[He clarified. He wasn't going into much detail, but just enough to reference it]

I never realized how hard it would be to try and maintain a list of everyone's birthdays..

[Haruka frowned as she looked down at the sheet before her. People were always leaving and arriving. There was no way this list was still accurate. It was serving more as a reminder of their loss than a means to celebrate the lives of those still here.]

It looks like this month.. there are no birthdays though. Is that accurate? I wonder if there's a better way to do this.... Does anyone have any suggestions? For one, I think I want to include last names. [The list only used first names before and sometimes people did have the same names. Shoot. That still wouldn't have cleared anything up when both Motochika's had been here] Or.. maybe include the ship name? ... but people change ships..

[A sigh escaped her lips]

Aside from that, how has everyone been doing?

Has anyone... noticed anything unusual?

[No that's too vague. Ugh- but how to explain it.]

My journal..... I don't remember it being filled with all this jibberish. No.... that's not right either.

[He sighed feeling a little frustrated]

It's not like jibberish. It's just.. It's like there's something here and I just can't see it clearly. I know... that sounds strange but most of my journal seems to be full of this hazy stuff now.

[The section that was reserved for his correspondence with Elissa was the item that stuck out the most. He could see his responses clearly but not what they were in response to. It kind of made him look crazy. Like he'd been writing to himself the whole time.]

What's worse is.... I just feel like I've forgotten something. I can't place my finger on it. Am I the only one feeling this way?

[Ban's been hit by the mist and he's forgotten Elissa and Haytham.]

[Open - Written]

[Unheard, the crinkle of a newspaper being folded and placed down beside the journal proceeded what was written across the page.]

Refreshing to see democracy in action. I am referring of course to the matter of the Bläckfisk elections. My son is always stomping about proclaiming the virtues of the people’s choice in government. I wonder what he will say now that those of Bläckfisk have done just that.

[With a bit of guidance, naturally.]

Fledging government and all, it is still a tumultuous time for those of Bläckfisk. I would recommend steering clear of the place until things settle. It is the island’s first proper election after all. There are bound to be a few rough patches as they find their way. Best your crews do not get mixed up in them. It would be a shame to hear you had lost a ship by sailing into port during an inopportune moment.

[Open to most but Locked from Elissa and her ‘ex-husband’]

At any point in your travels have you discovered a reputable jeweler? I am certain there are some around I just hadn’t cause to make note of them before. Though I suppose, in a pinch, some bit of plundered treasure might suffice if any of you have happened upon a ring and would be willing to part with it?

[Private to Triton’s Mistress]

To the crew of the Triton’s Mistress,

The business Elissa and I were distracted by has been concluded. Where might we catch up to you? Depending on how we travel, we may be passing by Isla Empieza on our return. Should you require anything we might be able to pick it up for you.

[Sheep aren't cutting it. The life force of an animal that she can't even bleed dry isn't satisfactory. Not now. It worked for awhile, but now the real hunger has set in. A feeling in the very pit of her stomach that leaves Alex prowling the yardarms during the nighttime hours.

Like now.

If she asked, she could probably get Haytham to cut himself. Pour rich, hot blood into the cup she'd first drank from. But she doesn't trust herself not to attack on first sight and smell of it.

Because she wants more than just blood. She wants life. To feel a living creature under her teeth. She doesn't crave the kill. But to feel something alive. To drink from the source.

And, well. She's a teenage girl. That? She can use to her advantage.]

Evening.

[She lets the instinct and hunger talk more than the girl. The words glide out, half purr and half lilt.

A siren's song to lure hapless sailors.]

Those of you who don't know me? I'm Alex. I've been here awhile. About nine months.

[She chuckles, a low, rolling sound.]

This is going to sound stupid, probably. [Give them a bit of innocence, slightly corrupted but not entirely.] But I'm really missing my boyfriend. Being held, being kissed, being touched.

I'm not looking for anything serious, I promise. No strings attached.

But I wanna have a little fun. An evening. Maybe a day or two. Your ship, mine, some nice little island.

I'm not looking for a boyfriend or anything like that. Promise. You're not going to get stuck with some crazy girl following you around.

I just wanna have a little fun.

[Another chuckle. Sweet, almost embarrassed. Like she isn't setting a trap.]

Anyone interested?

[Written]

[Or at least something might have been written here if the ship hadn't taken a sudden roll, spilling ink out all over the page. ]

I apologize that I woke too late to give you proper warning, my love. I trust you've learned what has happened? Had this man kept anything in any sort of sensible order, I would have found his journal before now. Not that he is terribly untidy - I just cannot seem to make sense of where he keeps things. That is about to change, however, so I hope he can be good humoured at my efforts at organization when we return to our proper places. It should be soon, I hope - Jones willing. I already miss you.

You might be amused to learn that this body is at least as tall as you are. I have learned to be wary of doorways and low ceilings and of a certain young lady who needs to wear gloves at all times. This fellow is indestructible from what I understand, so you've no need to worry about my well-being in case of an attack. He may need reminding that my body is a lot more fragile, however. I do not heal as quickly, easily, or as completely as he does.

I'm among friends here on the Spades' ships. Marco is looking after me, though he's rather harried from all of the changed people on board. Alex is here, too! We are both well.

Write soon.
All my love,
Elissa

'Ey. The name's Hester Shaw and I'm from the Traction Era. It's a fuckin' dangerous place, where most of the world's cities are mounted on wheels, trucks, skis, floats, balloons...you name it, a city moves on it. The big cities eat the little ones, little ones eat towns, towns eat villages, and everyone eats the miserable static settlements...That's the ones that don't move, like here.

Point is, piracy's no sweat for me. My whole world runs on it. And I survived years in the Great Hunting Ground, brought down a Stalker, forded the dread Sea of Kazak.

So if you're a ship that's looking for crew that's not afraid of doing things dirty, call me. You better be going places yourself though.

Since I promised Young Link of the Sabers a little meet up.

What:Ghost Race Tail Gate and Beach Party
Who:People who know not to burn down bars.
When:July 4th 4 pm
Where: Beach east of the port.

Bringing Dessert is recommended.
RSVP via this post by July 3rd for a decent headcount.

I canna believe what I've just been reading-- worse yet hearing.

[Scrooge had managed to keep occupied what with his recent business dealings, and a little side project he'd been writing up. He nearly missed hearing about what occurred to the two unfortunate islands in question]

Have you all taken leave of your senses?

[Not that he was in a position to really do anything about it...]

There could have been valuable resources on those islands... [You know- not to detract away from the greater issue.] People could've been killed.

[A very irritated yet defeated Ranma makes it a point to come on the journal this morning to gripe.]

Oi, I have a word of advice for all'a you bachelors an' all around good guys out there.

Next time y'decide to do somethin' out of the kindness of yer heart? Just do it an' keep on goin' with yer life. Don't stop an' let somethin' grow outta it. While I'm at it, never get married, don't agree t'get married, an' if you absolutely, positively hafta, then get it done right away.

Trust me. It'll save you a lot of headaches later.

[Boy, he doesn't sound apologetic about recent going ons at all.]

I can't decide if I hate this place or love it.

[And she doesn't sound happy about that.

It's late at night, and she's in the fighting-top of the foremast. Or, rather, her journal is. It's open on the wood, perfectly safe. She is sitting on the yardarm, balanced in a crouch. Because she wants that reminder of what she is. Of the unnatural abilities at night.]

People change, right?

Supposed to be part of growing up and life and all that bullshit.

[There's something darker in her. Here, she hasn't had to pretend, not for a long time, to be just a normal girl. Those around her know what she is. She has a steady diet of blood, both sheep and enemies. She is what she is.

But by embracing that simple fact, she's begun to embrace the darkness. The violence.

She can feel it settling into her mind, preparing her for the war Claudius wants to fight.]

How do you know when it's going too far?

When does it stop being "changing" and start being "losing yourself"?

[It's not a moral or existential crisis. If anything, it's concern about the lack of one. Because she feels like she should be bothered, but she's not, and that bothers her.]

And how do you know when to stop liking what you see in the mirror?

WARNING:

I will no longer condone the continued harassment of local innocents nor the willful and callous destruction of their property.

The next one of you who throws a temper tantrum that causes harm to homes, stores, livelihoods, or scenery that do not belong to our enemies THE NAVY will find yourself tied up and punished in the same manner of your wanton destruction.

Davy Jones can bring you back from being murdered, but let's see what he can do with someone who is burned almost to death, shall we?

If you do not have respect for the sanctity of the lives of those around you, then I shall have no respect for you.

This is a promise.

Signed,
Elissa Cousland

[Elissa doesn't use her usual blue, ballpoint pen for this entry. While she may be overly enamoured of the wonders of plastic pen technology, a noble just doesn't make a formal proclamation with such an implement. Since she's long since rid of her old quill and ink, she has borrowed Haytham's to write out this decisive statement of warning. In it, she uses a formal, calligraphic font that is almost Celtic. It is signed with a bold, angry flourish.]

voice;

[The crackling, roaring sound of a raging fire greets the journal this day. In the background, the frazzled screams of shopkeepers, residents, and other people can be heard.]

Yes . . . now they understand. Why must it be only I who suffers?

Give me my happily ever after!

[Shouts of "you madwoman!" and "you're going to pay for this!" ring out in the crowd, but no one dares attack Kodachi because she's already put to sleep several of those who tried.]

When will I get married?!



action; open to the crews of the Katabami and the Million Merrily

[Kodachi's standing in the middle of a town square. Behind her, the precious gardens, temples, and shops of Eternal Bliss are burning in a blazing inferno.]

[She's still in her wedding gown, a black rose bouquet clutched in her hands.]



[ooc; after the fire's put out, about half of Eternal Bliss (or "marriage island") will have been burnt to a crisp. No one will be hurt, but the island certainly won't as pretty as it once was. If you want someone to blame, blame Ranma.]